


What Sort of Devil is He

by waywardwandering (kaendyra)



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Prisonfic, Smut, beatings, valjean tries to escape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-25 08:09:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaendyra/pseuds/waywardwandering
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Javert is irritated and intrigued by 24601.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't yet read Les Miserables, so forgive me, I'm currently about 30 pages in, and working on it! This is movie-verse really, or at least in my head. I'm sure it's inaccurate and probably OOC, my apologies.

Javert endeavored to see the world plainly through the eyes of the law, both God's law and man's law. He tried to hold no delusions about himself. By the time he was a guard at Toulon, he knew himself well enough, had been through enough to realize the sins he was most prone to. By understanding what he was prone to, he rationalized, he could prevent himself from committing these sins.

He had known for a long time, that he held no interest in women. He had never fully understand some men's passionate sexuality towards women as he had never felt that way. He also understood that he was one of the men who preferred other men sexually. When he was younger, he had agonized over the fact that his body disobeyed what his mind would have him do. He had to come to realize at this age however, that no matter how much he willed himself to love women, his body was by default, through the devil or some other way, hard-wired to be attracted to men. So naturally, being the man he was, he took efforts to restrain himself, so that this predilection need never be a problem in his life. This repression was successful in most cases, though he admittedly, and disappointedly, was human and therefore was not always successful in this repression, but he had never had any issues other than in the privacy of his own rooms. Until, of course, 24601 arrived.

The man was infuriating from the start. He had stolen a loaf of bread, knowing the potential cost and had wound up in jail as a thief. 24601 was infuriatingly strong, and seemed to have no lack of energy or anger to throw at his work. He was so different from the dullards around him, that Javert had no choice but to pay attention to him. 24601 could end a day of hard labor with enough energy left to look at everyone around him with hate in his eye, whereas all the other prisoners would merely stumble past barely keeping their eyes open, having not enough to energy to even think about hate. He offered a challenge to the norm of prisoner behavior, the other prisoners sensed this and were wary around him. Javert, unfortunately, was intrigued.

Javert paid close attention to all the convicts under his command. There was no room for failure, escape attempts, disobedience or trouble in the prison, and it was Javert's job to stop these things from occurring. For these reasons, he paid particular attention to 24601. The man, however seemed angrily dedicated to the labor he was assigned. He seemed to use his anger as a fuel for all of his work, and for glaring at the guards, Javert included. He seemed to communicate with the other prisoners minimally, and didn't seem to have formed some of the more unnatural connections inmates sometimes did. Javert had thought him a likely candidate for such things given his strong stature, he would have easily been able to subjugate any other prisoner and force himself upon them, willing or not. Javert pretended the thought didn't excite him at all.

It was several months before 24601's first incident. In this time, Javert had studied the man daily, attempting to understand everything about him. He was quiet, strong, and angry. He seemed hostile towards both guards and prisoners, and seemed angry at the world. Javert wasn't surprised when he made his first escape attempt. The attempt was well thought out, and might have had a chance to succeed, had similar things not happened before at the prison, and Javert was clever enough to have seen it coming. Javert felt a sense of triumph for the law as 24601 was bound and dragged, under Javert's command to the rack, where he would be beaten. Javert himself was to administer the punishment. His stomach filled with a sick sort of excitement.

"So, 24601, you've decided you had enough of our hospitality? Was the work not challenging enough?" Javert asked bitingly.

"My name is Valjean. You may play with me as a cat plays with a mouse, _Javert_ , but as I am already caught, you might as well eat me already." Valjean answered angrily, the ropes straining as his muscles bulged attempting to pull free. The man was naked, and suddenly Javert was very aware of this fact. He was muscle-bound, the strength in his body clearly visible, even through the dirt that coated him. Javert averted his eyes abruptly, conscious of the fact that he had been staring.

"If I am truly the cat, then surely I would not miss out on my entertainment before my meal."

"I wouldn't want to deny you your pleasure." Valjean growled back. Javert ignored the rush of lust that went through him at these words.

"Why did you try to escape?" Javert demanded. "Did you honestly think your plan would work?"

"You were correct earlier, I find your hospitality lackluster at best."

"No more than scum like you deserves." Javert growled, irritated at this man who could take this all so lightly. "Answer my earlier question!"

"Do you expect me to relish being treated as a slave?" Valjean said, his voice pitching slightly, betraying emotion Javert hadn't heard there before.

"I expect a good man would want to atone for the crimes he committed. We both know, though, that if you were a good man, you wouldn't be here in the first place." Javert sneered.

"Then why did you ask a question to which you already knew the answer? You and I both know, I only stole to save a child." Valjean said quietly lacking his usual anger.

Javert frowned, wondering why indeed he had asked. "You broke the law, and you will pay the price. I've heard it all before. I will administer your punishment now." He expected Valjean to tense up, to fear the beating but he sat there expressionless and apparently unafraid.

Javert pulled out his baton and moved around to behind Valjean. His eyes raked the back of this man's body, so strong, from his ankles to his shoulders was the physical evidence of that strength. Javert felt as if his eyes were magnetically pulled along the length of the man's body, as he spent much too much time eyeing him. His eyes lingered unforgivably long on the man's ass, the one part of him that had any softness at all. Javert's pulse pounded, and he fought off inappropriate thoughts about this prisoner Valjean, 24601 he forced himself to think. 24601.

He raised the baton and administered the first strike hard, to 24601's ass, Valjean's body shook with the blow, a slight ripple forming from his buttocks into in his upper thighs. The sound made from the blow didn't help Javert's mind from wandering, as it sounded strangely lewd and he felt his pulse escalate even further in what he knew to be arousal. His first strike had left a small red mark that was fading. He struck again, even harder, and this time Valjean made an involuntary sound as the wind went out of his lungs. This tiny little groan went straight to Javert's cock, and he desperately tried to tear his eyes away from Valjean.

He attempted to force his mind elsewhere, and he administered the remaining strikes with force and without pause, each strike sending more blood pounding to his cock. As soon as he was finished with the last strike, he tore his eyes away, and turned abruptly in the other direction as he allowed both himself and Valjean to catch their breath. Javert forced himself to think of the law, the law governing sale of alcohol, the law governing the display of flags, he struggled to think of the most boring laws in existence, until he felt his pulse slow, and his cock become less interested. Valjean said nothing, his ragged breathing slowing down, and becoming inaudible.

Finally, when Javert trusted himself again, he turned back to Valjean, to 24601, and walked to his front. He quickly, and with shaking hands loosened the knots that tied 24601 to the posts, and released him. He threw a pair of trousers and a shirt at the man, and stared above his shoulder as the man got dressed. He ignored the way the prisoner looked at him, angrily yes, but also curious, and somehow knowing, in a way that made Javert's stomach turn in knots. Javert roughly escorted him back to his cell, with perhaps more force than necessary, all the while fiercely thinking about the laws governing commercial real estate.

As he laid on his bunk in his quarters later that evening, real estate far from his mind, he mentally cursed Valjean, as he wrapped his hand around his cock to the thoughts of that very firm ass. Clearly, this man had been sent from Hell to damn him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valjean intentionally provokes Javert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, I had a really bad bout of the flu, and haven't had the energy to do any writing. Hopefully, this isn't completely awful. Again, sorry for my characterizations, and my lack of book knowledge, or really anything knowledge.
> 
> Thank you all who have left comments and encouragement, it really helps! <3

Javert gladly takes a job away from the prison for a few months, does anything he can to not think about the convict, and doesn’t touch himself once. He takes the time to pull himself together, because he is an officer of the police, and he should at least have enough self-control to be able to do his damn job. The job away from the prison is over far too soon, and he’s within sight of the damn place again before he can truly compose himself.

He curses himself, but he can’t help his eyes from searching for one particular convict in the masses. He finds him quickly, his eyes drawn like a magnet to the man laboring below. He adjusts his coat nervously, and works on looking imposing. He notices the small details about the man, how he looks exactly the same, he had forgotten how worn and dirty he was. Javert blocks thoughts about the human beings below, and their experiences, and focuses on the aspects of the law. It is dangerous to think with your heart about the prison, it is far too easy to let it affect you, so Javert doesn’t. He focuses on the work to be done and the punishments, and thinks far, far too much about Valjean.

That first afternoon back, Valjean doesn’t notice Javert until they’re filing in for the night, and Valjean looks right at him. He salutes Javert mockingly, and meets his eyes daringly. Javert steels his face and refuses to think about the man naked, refuses to think about the pure, bestial strength of the man. He refuses to touch himself that night, too.

The next morning dawns bright and far too early, after a near sleepless night. Javert dresses with care, and sets his mind to his daily tasks. He attaches his baton to his belt and hopes in equal parts that he will get to use it, and that he will not have to. The day has barely begun when Valjean looks up to Javert, meets his eyes directly, smiles at him, mock-salutes, and turns to punch the inmate next to him on the line. 

“24601!” Javert barks out, and all too soon, he’s got Valjean bound in handcuffs and is pushing him towards the chambers they used last time for punishment. 

“Are you mad or just plain stupid?” Javert demands, feeling his blood rise in anger, anger and definitely not lust.

Valjean says nothing, but walks willingly in front of Javert, offering no resistance. Javert finds himself wishing for a split second that he would resist, use some of that massive strength on Javert. He quickly turns his mind to other topics.

“Answer me.” He growls. 

“I figure what better way could there be to welcome you back than allow you to beat me. You seem to quite enjoy it, last time.” Valjean answers grudgingly back, his voice laced with what might have been amusement.

Javert ignores the implication and shoves the man forward, his mind racing. Had the man noticed his attraction, but why court that behavior? Surely, there were many guards here who would take first and ask permission never. If he had noticed it, is he asking for that sort of behavior? Javert’s pulse races, and he feels the all-too-familiar surge of lust combine with the adrenaline already in his system.

“What makes you think I enjoy performing my job’s duties?” Javert says, forcing his voice to be light.

“Are you really trying to say that you didn’t enjoy it?” Valjean answers, his voice still carrying too much amusement. 

Javert refuses to answer as they reach the room they used last time. Javert flings open the door and shoves Valjean inside, being as rough as possible. Valjean turns to smile at him, as Javert fumbles with the lock on the door. 

“And you trust yourself in here with me alone? Maybe I wanted to bring you here so I could overpower you alone.” Valjean asks, his eyes gauging Javert’s reaction.

“What makes you think you could overpower me, 24601?” Javert answers, meeting the man’s eyes, his heart feeling like it is trying to leave his chest. His mind plays out the scene Valjean is suggesting, and he imagines what it would be like to have Valjean struggle against him in resistance, before he finally overpowered the man and shoved against the wall, Javert’s cock against the convict’s ass. He feels some of his blood surge southwards, and he’s pretty sure he’s going to have a visible erection shortly. 

“I’m a stronger man, Javert.” Valjean says simply, his eyes never leaving Javert’s face.

“Maybe in brute strength, yes. But I have training, and you’re in irons. I could have you against the wall in no time.” He answers roughly, he can hear the arousal in his own voice. “And maybe that’s what you were actually looking for here, Valjean.”

Valjean smirks, and pointedly looks over Javert, his eyes lingering on the man’s crotch. 

“Strip.” Javert snaps, advancing toward the convict.

Valjean assents quickly, dropping his threadbare trousers. Javert intentionally doesn’t look at the man’s genitals and instead goes behind him to push him against the wall. Valjean braces his hands against the wall, and assumes a provocative posture, the man’s ass definitely displayed outward. Javert’s hands shake as he retrieves the baton from his belt, he passes his palm briefly over the erection in his trousers, his cock throbbing impatiently. 

The first strike is hard, and the skin turns quickly red where he struck it. Javert’s whole body throbs with a deep, mindless lust, and he wants nothing more in the entire world than to fuck Valjean against the wall right now. He takes a deep breath, and stands there for a moment attempting to collect himself. Valjean turns his head around in that moment, and Javert knows that he knows. He knows this from the way Valjean adjusts himself, essentially shaking his ass for Javert to see. 

“I knew you liked this.” Valjean says smugly, facing back towards the wall.

Javert answers with several hard strikes in a row that leave Valjean’s ass red, and Javert panting breathlessly. 

“How badly do you want to fuck me?” Valjean says after he catches his breath, his voice low.

“Why do you invite it so?” Javert demands, stepping close to the man and shoving him roughly against the wall by his hips. Valjean doesn’t answer, but swings his hips back, until his ass brushes against Javert’s crotch.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” Javert says roughly, terrified by the shakiness in his own voice, and his own desperation. “Is that why you do this? You want me to slam you against the wall and fuck you?”

Valjean doesn’t answer, just swings his ass once more across Javert’s crotch. Javert lets out an involuntary moan and steps back, forcing himself away. Valjean, damn him to Hell, turns around and Javert can see that he is not unaffected. His cock stands erect and large against his thin but muscular frame. Javert says nothing, doesn’t know what to say, as Valjean moves to kneel in front of Javert. Valjean reaches up with one manacled hand to stroke the length of Javert through his trousers. Javert reacts as though burnt and jumps away. 

He throws the convict's trousers at him roughly. His heart is racing a million beats per minute, and he has to get out of this chamber before he loses all control. Javert escapes hurriedly from the room, leaving Valjean inside of it. He calls for another officer, and asks his assistance to take Valjean back to work, claiming illness. He doesn’t remember later what he said, only that in his manic state he must have been believed, because it’s only a matter of minutes before he’s safely in his own chambers, with the door closed. He’s been in the safety of his room for mere seconds, before he has his cock in his hand and for the first time in months he strokes himself, savagely jerking himself, spreading the pre-cum around ungracefully. He comes in a humiliatingly short amount of time, the orgasm wracking through his entire body, his pulse pounding like a train in his head. 

He lays in bed all day, his head spinning, and he masturbates twice more before he can stop himself. Damn this man, this convict, to Hell. He only gets up in late evening to hurriedly write another transfer request, praying to God for all he is worth that it will be accepted.


End file.
